


I Hang on Every Word You Say

by undersail2013



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 4x09, Coda, Episode Related, Light Angst, M/M, POV Multiple, Relationship History, Unpopular Opinion, ace-spectrum!david, bi!patrick, coming out stories, david and patrick have The Talk, even with his checkered history i think david seems ace or maybe i'm projecting, it's all talking like so much talking, the gesture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: They should have had this conversation four months ago.  (Post-4x09, "The Gesture")





	I Hang on Every Word You Say

This was a really great olive branch.  David was putting his heart on the line.  Patrick was in awe of the rawness of the gesture; this was a David no one saw, vulnerability on full display!  By the time David dropped to his knees, Patrick was ready to kiss him into oblivion.  Whatever lingering resentment he might have felt when he flipped the closed sign had utterly evaporated.

 

David gazed up at Patrick, catching his breath while he waited for Tina to continue singing, but before he could dash away again, Patrick leaned forward and scooped him up, hands cupping his gorgeous face.  For the second time that day - a day that had started so bad and somehow gotten so much better in the worst possible way - he held David's head in his hands.  This time, though, he couldn't imagine how he could have been angry enough to resist that smirk.  He certainly couldn't resist now.  As he closed the distance, he noted how David's eyes sparkled even as the lids dipped downward in anticipation.  He could feel his scruffy cheeks under his palms, hear his breath hitch a little when Patrick's lips touched his.  Patrick could taste lavender breath mints, and something else, a warm fruity scent.  David pressed closer, wedging himself between Patrick's legs, holding himself up with wide hands splayed on his thighs, desperate to deepen the kiss.  Patrick felt electricity in every touch of David's mouth on his, a heated passion but something softer, too.  He knew what he meant to David; he was telling him, over and over. 

 

David was the first to notice that they were actually quite uncomfortably positioned. "Ow, okay, my feet are going to sleep. And I think maybe we didn't get all the beads when that necklace broke last night, because something is definitely digging into my kneecap."  The music had long since stopped.  Patrick realized that his neck hurt slightly from twisting to meet David's angle.

 

Patrick helped him up off the floor before bringing himself to his feet.  Hands still entwined, they stood awkwardly, smiling but bashful. "Thank you. I think your olive branch was better than all of mine combined."

 

David fussed and rolled his eyes, but he looked pleased.  Patrick caught him up in another long kiss. 

 

They were still basking in the hazy afterglow of David's performance and exchanging lazy kisses when Patrick pulled back and grinned. "Needed a little liquid courage, did we?"

 

"Mm. There's a half-opened bottle of prosecco in the back.  Less than half...  I _think_ there's still some prosecco in the back?" 

 

Patrick laughed. "I can't blame you. That was intense.  I didn't think you had it in you."

 

"That was either the least 'me' thing I've ever done, or the most."

 

"It was perfect," Patrick murmured against his lips.  He could feel David's mouth curving into an embarrassed smile.  Drawing back, he gave a half-smile.  "So.  I say we drive to Elmdale for some decent food, and on the way, we, uh, we unlock the box."  David made a face; Patrick nodded, undeterred.  "Yeah, me too, but we're long overdue for the relationship history."

 

"Yeah?"  He looked uncomfortable.  "Except,' he hedged, trying to weasel his way out, "I'm not really dressed for Elmdale."

 

"Get in the car, David." 

 

"Ngh, okay.  I just have to grab my phone and my bag."  He ducked into the back room, then poked his head out again.  "By the way, I'm obviously very excited about us having The Talk, but I think you should go first, because your story will be so much shorter."

 

"Hold on there, I'm not actually a virgin, you know."

 

"Yes, I know; I'm just stating a fact." Patrick just stared, hands on his hips, so David continued. "Let me put it this way: which of us went to theatre camp?  In Greece?"

 

"Point taken.  I'll go first."

 

Patrick didn't begin his story in earnest until they were halfway out of Schitt's Creek.  "Obviously you know about Rachel."

 

"Only because she showed up at my parent's barbecue," he muttered.

 

"Okay," Patrick replied, firmly but without malice, "how about if I talk, and you listen?"

 

David gestured for him to continue.  

 

"It would be really easy to say that Rachel and I were on-again, off-again because I was secretly gay and pining for something she couldn't give me, and so on.  But that's not entirely true.  I loved Rachel, and for a long time, I really thought she was the one for me, the one I could settle down with and all that.  But then she cheated on me. With a girl.  That was the beginning of the on-again, off-again pattern. But it also got me thinking about myself."

 

David nodded.

 

"I started to confront my feelings for ... people who weren't women.  Eventually I got around to acknowledging that I had definitely had a lot of crushes on guys over the years.  Some of them I really regret. Not that I regret the crushes," he added hastily. "I regret that I didn't recognize them for what they were.  Missed opportunities, you know?"  He paused.  "Did you ever have that moment when you asked yourself, 'Am I gay?' but then you remembered that you preferred girls, so you decided you weren't gay after all and defaulted to straight?"

 

"Mm! Yes!" David exclaimed. "I think I was eight at the time?  Except mine was the opposite: I preferred boys, so I defaulted to gay. Fortunately, I learned about multisexual identites a few years later.  I was an early adopter of 'pansexual.'"

 

"I prefer 'bi' myself.  It's a little more accessible, in my circles at least.  Anyway, I could probably say more about specific people, but aside from my high school girlfriend and some of the more prominent guy-crushes, there's not a lot to tell.  I've had six partners in twelve years, all women, most long-term relationships."

 

"What does that mean, long-term relationships?"

 

"What does it mean to me?"

 

"Mhm."

 

Patrick thought a moment.  "Six months to a year. At least."

 

David sucked in his breath.  "And this was most of your relationships?"

 

He smiled.  "Yes.  I'm very good at relationships.  The key is _compromise_."

 

"Eww okay, you don't have to keep bringing that up."

 

"Last one, then it's your turn: I got tested not long after I met you. Just in case."

 

David made a sound like he was surprised or impressed.  "And what, may I ask, is your status?"

 

"I'm clean."

 

"Mm-mm, actually no," David interjected, shaking his head. "We don't say clean. Contributes to the stigma of AIDS and HIV. We say negative."

 

Patrick apologized.  "And you?"

 

"Also negative. Although recently, I did have to crawl back to a scaggy ex to rescue my mother from her ego, so.  I might be due for another check soon."

 

"Oh really?  How recently was this?"

 

"This is not really where I wanted to start my story, but if you must know, it was Sebastien Raine, that homeless-looking guy you saw walking around town with Mom.  Long before we opened."

 

"Of course, long before."  He didn't comment further.  Four months was a long time to David; Patrick gave him the benefit of the doubt and tamped down any nascent jealousy.

 

David huffed a long sigh. "Oh I don't know where to start!  I can't remember the last time someone made me do this!"

 

Patrick rolled his eyes. "You don't _hav_ e to, if you don't want to, but it'll help me - _us_ \- avoid repeating the mistakes of your past."

 

"Ugh, I know, you're right."  He shook out his hands and cracked his neck, limbering up for the marathon ahead.  "Mistakes.  Mistakes.  Unfortunately, the best way to avoid the mistakes of my past is not to date me."

 

"Nope, sorry, not an option. Next?"

 

David tried to hide his smile.  "Okay. Probably my biggest mistake, and it's a pattern, is "Run away at the first sign of feelings.'"

 

"Noted.  Have you had feelings for anyone? Have you been in love?"

 

"A couple of times? Although one was unrequited, and the other was probably the result of lowkey emotional abuse and highkey gaslighting."  He frowned.  "It's not all bad," he insisted. "I have had the odd decent relationship.  But mostly only the odd ones.  The whole Stevie and Jake throuple debacle pretty well represents the general haplessness of my dating history."

 

"And that was also recent."

 

"Well, yes.  Okay, so I've been with three people since I got here? That's not so bad, is it?"

 

"I'm not going to judge."

 

"..."  David looked dubious.  "I think you might, so I'm not going to give you a number.  Also, I don't really know what my number is because I might have blocked some of them out.  Also, I don't think it counts when someone randomly approaches you in the sauna and puts your dick in his mouth, right?"

 

Patrick coughed. "Maybe this was a bad idea..."

 

"Okay, starting over."  David took a moment to collect his thoughts.  He eventually settled on a scaled-down version of The Talk: He has never had an STD, he has never gotten anyone pregnant.  He has had sex with multiple genders and sexual identities.  He has had unpleasant encounters and encounters with unpleasant people, and a couple that, if he was really honest with himself, were not actually consensual (and that's as close to the truth as he's willing to get right now).  He has no particular kinks, though he does love giving and getting hickies, and he's not above group sex, though the awkward dynamics activate his anxiety.  He might even go so far as to say that sex is not that important; it's messy and fraught with emotions, and he would probably decline altogether if it wasn't a requirement of adult relationships.  

 

By this point, they had reached Elmdale and were scouting for an open restaurant.  It came down to a tiny family-owned pizza place with three tables, elevator music, and a baby crying somewhere, or Boston Pizza.  David couldn't decide which horrified him more.  They settled on Boston Pizza because at least it was a bustling place where they could continue The Talk without scarring the other patrons.  

 

"Like I told Stevie when she asked if I was gay, 'I like the wine, not the label.'"

 

"That's a good philosophy," Patrick agreed, nodding.  The waiter came by with their drinks and took their order, necessitating a break in the conversation.  

 

David sipped his wine, the most expensive thing on the wine list, and grimaced. "It's a bit sour, but fortunately, the excess of tannins have dried up all my tastebuds."    

 

Meanwhile, Patrick found his Molson Canadian perfectly adequate. "I think I need to hear more about this 'sex is unimportant' theory."

 

"It's not that it's unimportant," David argued, "I just don't think it's as important as people think it is.  The whole stereotype of oversexed men who have sex with other oversexed men is gross, and I don't want any part of it."

 

Patrick hesitated.  "So you don't want to have sex."

 

"I mean, I _do_ , but usually it's just expected, you know?  It's almost common," he added with a measure of disdain.

 

"I'm getting mixed signals here."

 

"Okay." David waved his hands, as if he could gather the words he needed to him from thin air.  "I think, a lot of times, sex is a tool that people use to, I don't know, make people like them, or fit into some power dynamic, or lubricate the relationship, so to speak.  But if I had my way, it would be just ... a _fun_ thing that two people (or more, but for me, mostly just two because i'm wildly insecure), that people do because they _want_ to, and because the other person makes them feel good, and they want to make _them_ feel good, too."

 

Patrick stared at David for a full minute after he stopped talking. 

 

David returned the stare, confused.  "What?"

 

He took David's hands.  "That's how you feel?"

 

"Um.  Yeah?"

 

"David, that might be the saddest thing I've ever heard."

 

".... Why?"

 

"Because it makes everything so clear."  David didn't respond; Patrick continued. "You have a lot of experience, I get that, but I'm starting to understand that you haven't had any healthy adult relationships."

 

"Well. Yeah.  I mean, I don't not like sex because I'm broken and the world has destroyed my ability to love or something dramatic like that!  I just don't _get it_ exactly."

 

"This might sound corny, but to me, it sounds like the difference between sex and making love."

 

David looked pensive, then shook his head flippantly. "Yeah, no, that sounds super corny."  But the wheels were turning.  He was quiet for some time after that.  

 

Their meals arrived, and they ate in silence, David picking at his salad, Patrick often looking up from his salmon to cast worried glances at David. 

 

When the server came by with the check, David slipped his credit card into the machine without looking at the total. Patrick was glad to skip David's usual whining and wheedling to avoid paying, but it was significantly out of character.

 

Back in the car, Patrick asked if he was okay.

 

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. It's just a lot, you know?"

 

"I understand.  Take your time, and I'm here for you."  

 

David reached for his hand and clasped it tight between both of his.  "Just so you know, I'm not saying we won't have sex.  Or _make love_ , whatever that even means.  Nothing's off the table.  I'm just ... mulling over our conversation."

 

"It's late," Patrick remarked, genuinely surprised by the time.  "I have a crazy idea - you can say no.  What if we got a hotel room here in Elmdale?"  David hesitated. "You can say no.   I'm not asking for anything from you, just looking to crash for the night."

   

Slowly, a half-smile broke on David's face.  "Yes.  I would like that."

 

"You're sure?"

 

He nodded, somberly but with enthusiasm. 

 

***

 

The act of renting a hotel room in the middle of the night always brings with it a sense that you're somehow up to no good.  It feels like sneaking around and nefarious dealings.  Maybe that's just David's anxiety talking, and heightened by the jarring discussion over drinks.

 

Patrick requests two beds, stirring David from his reverie.  

 

The desk clerk hands over two card keys and directs them to their room.  Up the stairs, second hallway, third door on the left, just across from the ice machine.

 

"Is it me, or were they a little judge-y?" David asks.

 

"It might be you," Patrick replies. He's trying to hold back the snark.  "But I'm not sure it helps to stage-whisper about nefarious dealings while they're checking us in at midnight."  He thinks he's very funny.

 

They enter the room and leave their shoes and socks at the door.  Patrick asks if it's okay if he takes his jeans off.  Obviously.  No one should wear blue jeans, period, but definitely not to bed.

 

David understands why he asked, though, and he appreciates the gesture.  He doesn't need to be treated with kid gloves, but he doesn't mind it, either.  As Patrick folds his jeans over the desk chair, David slides behind him. He wraps his arms around Patrick's waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder. "Can we sleep just like this?"

 

Patrick hums. "Of course. But I generally prefer to sleep horizontally."

 

"You are very funny," sinking his teeth gently into the smooth skin at the crook of Patrick's neck.

 

"Oh my god, you cannot give me a hickey there."  David can hear the smile in his voice, though.

 

Patrick falls asleep quickly, but David has more thinking to do.  After the excitement and worry of the past few days, they are together.  They have broken down shoddy old walls and are clearing the rubble, making way for something new and shining and beautiful.  Like the store.  They'll work together, they'll make it work.  They'll even compromise _if they must_.  David smiles, laying a soft kiss on his partner's warm, solid back and shimmying closer. 

 

Patrick is good for him, he muses.  He's grounded and honest and _real_.  Better than anyone he's ever met.  If anyone could take his heart and make it strong, it's Patrick.

 

They lie nestled like spoons until the morning sun reminds them that they have a long commute ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: ilikebeesandflowers... Follow for soft grunge and Supernatural. 
> 
> For the record, I DO NOT think David is aro/ace BECAUSE he has this tragic backstory or whatever, but I do believe he has a long history IN ADDITION TO being aro/ace... The "ace-who-can't-pass-a-purity-test" trope means a lot to me personally so don't @ me :)


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